


Evil

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Series: Alphabet Stories [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pack Family, Peter Hale Gets Therapy, Peter saves Scott, Pre-Relationship, Suspicions, This story is kind of dumb but i still like it, dragon - Freeform, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29473797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: Evil = morally reprehensible: sinful, wicked. / arising from actual or imputed bad character or conduct.Things are okay for a long time. They finally have a proper pack "house", everyone gets along well most of the time, Stiles bonds with Peter over their trauma. But then, the murders start to happen.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Alphabet Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129667
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95
Collections: Steter collection





	Evil

**Author's Note:**

> For this challenge, I write 500-1000 (my muse can't count....) words stories to prompt words for every letter of the alphabet: E for Evil.

A few months after the Nogitsune, things are okay. They are not great, and they might never be, but they are okay. It’s more than Stiles thought he would have after everything that happened. 

Derek finally made an effort to build the loft into a proper pack house. They now have two cozy couches with lots of pillows and blankets to make a nest - of course Derek wouldn't ever call it a nest, but everyone knows that’s exactly what they are building for the pack on a full moon night. 

They also have a soft, blue armchair Stiles loves to read in, a huge TV - Peter carried it in one day and ignored Derek’s grumbling, telling him the pups need some entertainment apart from looking at Derek’s best grumpy cat faces - as well as a playstation and a big table everyone can sit on during pizza time. 

Pack meetings are getting more lighthearted. Stiles still sometimes feels like he doesn’t deserve to be there, that no one should have to look at him, but then Isaac makes a joke and winks at him, or Scott pats his back, and the feeling makes place to a relieved warmth. 

Sometimes, Stiles stays at the loft so long he falls asleep on the couch while clutching a book and wakes up in the morning, noticing someone threw a blanket over him at some point and shoved a pillow under his face. He blinks into the sunlight confused for a moment, until he realizes where he is.

Sometimes, Peter is there too, leaning back against the kitchen counter and sipping water, smirking at Stiles when he startles and instinctively pulls the blanket up to his chin. 

Once, Peter is coming downstairs only in his boxers and Stiles quickly pulls the blanket over his head as well, hiding the blush spreading on his face, his skin feeling hot like fire. 

Even under the blanket, Stiles can hear Peter’s knowing chuckle. That evil bastard.   
  


The thing is, Stiles gets along with Peter so well, sometimes he wonders if he should be worried about it.   
  


But then, he reminds himself that Peter hasn’t killed anyone ever since he came back from the death. Also, he does try to be helpful. He offers his advice and knowledge at pack meetings. He keeps his eye on who is setting foot on the territory and he supports pack members, when they need money or new things. In short, Peter really seems to make an effort. 

Not everyone is ready to trust Peter, but he told Stiles he doesn’t expect them to. Which, Stiles thinks, is just another good sign concerning Peter’s state of mind. He kind of wonders about where it comes from, but then, he enters the loft one day, when Peter is just about to leave. 

“Hey, where are you going, Big Bad? I thought we’d settle that chess feud today?” Stiles asks, grinning. 

Peter shakes his head. “As tempting as it sounds to show you your place once again, little human, we’ll have to postpone this. I have an appointment.” 

Stiles pouts and flops on the couch. “What kind of appointment could that be?” 

Peter hesitates, but then he says, “I’m seeing a therapist. Have been, for a while now.”

“Oh. Good for you,” Stiles says, mildly surprised. “Do they know about werewolves?” 

“Yes,” Peter nods. “There are actually quite a few therapists and doctors who do. The only difficult thing is to find them.” 

He doesn’t say much more. Stiles gets it. He’s been to therapy. It is not easy to lay out your insides in front of someone.

Peter starts to tell him more about it later, opening up bit by bit. Stiles suspects he was testing the waters first. Testing Stiles’ reactions. 

Peter tells him about flashbacks, screaming nightmares and sudden, violent reactions to triggers like the smell of smoke. Stiles listens and starts to tell Peter about his own panic attacks and nightmares in return. It is another thing they bond over. 

So, things are okay. For a really long time. 

But then, the murders start.  
  
  


“It could be Peter,” Scott mumbles. He and Stiles sit on Scott’s bed and try to figure out what kind of creature eats the kidneys of their victims. 

Stiles looks up from the old book he is going through, blinking. “Why should it be Peter?” 

“Because he’s evil,” Scott sniffs. 

“Peter isn’t evil,” Stiles says, annoyed. He closes the book resolutely, dust flying up. “He’s human. Well, not entirely human of course. But my point is, he has fucked up in the past, but he sees that and tries to get better. That’s certainly not evil behaviour. Besides, the world isn’t divided into good and evil. There’s a lot in between. Lots and lots of grey areas …”

Scott makes a doubtful noise. “He could be fooling us. He fooled us before. How can you be so sure he is not cooking up some plan behind our backs? A plan to gain power or something?” 

Stiles sighs. “Scott … I really don’t think Peter has any interest in cooking up plans right now.” He doesn’t tell Scott that Peter is going to therapy, because he doesn’t know if Peter would want Scott to know. “He is just trying to be part of the pack, so he can get what he needs as a werewolf. Bonds, right? He is giving advice and don’t forget he saved Isaac from that crazy Harpy last month. Also, I’m sure I would have noticed if he’s been up to something …” 

“Hm. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Peter lately,” Scott says, squinting at Stiles. “You’re smelling like him way too much. You should be more careful, a guy with Peter’s history … I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can look after myself, I promise. Scott … Please. Trust me. One damn time, just trust me. It’s _not_ Peter.” 

Scott scrunches his nose. “Okay. But I’m still keeping an eye on him.” 

Stiles sighs.

* * *

The next pack meeting is quite a clusterfuck. They still don’t know who murders people and rips out their kidneys. Even Peter doesn’t really contribute to their discussions. He just sits on the stairs and watches them, his eyes distant. 

Stiles just starts to get worried, when Scott suddenly glares at Peter and Peter raises a brow questioningly. “Is there a reason for you to look at me like that, Alpha mine?”

Scott crosses his arms. “I know what you’re doing.” 

Stiles feels the sudden but violent urge to press his hand on Scott's mouth before he says something really stupid.

“Do you now,” Peter says, his brow wandering up higher. 

“You are trying to act all innocent. I bet you know something about this. Why don’t you tell us? Are you behind this somehow?” Scott asks, raising his chin.

“Uh, Scott,” Isaac chimes in with a slight frown. “We don’t really suspect Peter now, do we? There is not a single thing hinting at him.”

Now, everyone stops talking and glances at Peter, who shifts on the stairs and definitely seems to be uncomfortable now. 

“I don’t know. I just want him to say he’s not behind this,” Scott insists. 

“Scott, I highly recommend reading some books, if you want an answer to your questions. If you want to, you can search through my things and see if you find some kidneys in glasses. I am tired. I’m going to bed.” With that, Peter gets up and walks upstairs to his room. 

Stiles glares at Scott. “Really?”

Scott shrugs. “He’s the only one in this room who actually murdered people.” 

Stiles huffs. “Is that so. Well, I certainly have blood on my hands too.” 

“Dude, you were possessed. That’s different,” Scott tells him. 

Stiles is tired of this. He turns away and goes after Peter. 

When he knocks at the door of Peter’s room, the wolf tells him to come in, sounding mildly surprised. 

“You’re okay?” Stiles asks, leaning against the doorframe. 

Peter sits on the edge of his bed and folds his hands in his lap. “Kind of a bad day. But yes. I’m okay. I’m just not in the mood for this right now.” 

Stiles hums. He gets that. “I don’t think you’re planning anything behind our backs,” he says. “I just want you to know that. I trust you.” 

Peter looks surprised for a volatile moment before he’s able to hide this behind his calm expression. “Thank you, Stiles. I appreciate that.” 

“Do you really not know what is murdering people?” 

Peter hesitates. Eventually, he pats the mattress. “Sit. I have a suspicion. I can tell you.” 

“Okay,” Stiles says, sitting on the bed beside Peter, his cheeks warming up a bit. 

* * *

Peter’s terrifying suspicion turns out to be true. 

Unfortunately, the monster finds them before they find it. A man, shifting into a giant dragon with leather-like wings and fangs so long, they look like icicles. The dragon needs the kidneys to keep his scales shiny. Wow. 

Stiles takes one look, drops his bat and hides behind a tree. Fuck. 

Isaac is thrown past him, landing on his back hard, but uninjured. Stiles sees Derek jumping on the beast’s back and sees Scott - what the hell is Scott doing?! Scott is basically frozen in place somehow, and the dragon raises one paw with long, sharp claws to swipe at him. 

Before Stiles can shout at Scott to fucking move, Peter is there. 

Peter jumps in front of Scott and shoves the young Alpha away. Peter is not fast enough to avoid the claws and the force of the blow throws him against a tree. He slumps with a pained groan.

Stiles’ stomach sinks. He runs to Peter, without caring about the roaring dragon behind him. When he reaches the wolf, Peter is turning on his back and reaches for his chest, grimacing. 

Stiles crouches beside Peter and swallows. There is a lot of blood. Way too much. Stiles starts to feel lightheaded. He still tries to stay focused and applies pressure to the wound, tasting bile in his throat when he dips his hands into sticky, hot blood. 

Somehow the rest of the pack manages to make the dragon shift back to human and bind him with some magic ropes Deaton gave them. 

Scott stares at Peter, dumbfounded. “Why did he do that?!” 

“You can continue searching for some secret, horrible reason that doesn’t exist, or you can call Deaton,” Stiles snaps. 

Scott fumbles for his phone. Derek comes to sit beside Stiles and takes Peter’s pain with a worried expression on his face. 

“I’m fine,” Peter groans, his face pale and glistening with sweat. 

“You’re really not,” Stiles tells him, swallowing down more bile. “You have a hole in your chest.” 

Peter smirks, but it looks more like a grimace of pain. “My, are you worried about me, Stiles?” 

“Sure, I am, you idiot. I’ve never seen you doing some heroic, stupid shit like that. What were you thinking?!” 

Peter’s eyes flutter. “Nothing. I saved the Alpha,” he murmurs and coughs up some blood. 

“Don’t do that!” Stiles yells, vaguely aware he sounds hysterical. 

Peter just chuckles around a mouthful of blood. Then, he passes out. 

“He’ll be okay, right?” Stiles asks Derek anxiously. Derek grimaces when even more black lines crawl up his arm. “I hope so,” he says. 

* * *

It takes a while, but Peter recovers. 

He is soon back to complaining about everything. “I just want you to leave me alone,” he groans when the pack scurries around him, asking him if he needs anything. “I’m peachy, I will be even more peachy without you pestering me. And for the love of the Gods, Scott stop asking me why I did it! You make me start to wish I hadn't.” 

The pack leaves, but when Stiles wants to follow, Peter says, “You can stay.” 

Stiles smiles and closes the door. He sits on the edge of Peter’s bed, watching as the wolf sinks into the pillows, his face still tense with the pain. “In the past,” he mumbles barely audible, “I would have healed in the matter of a day. But well, that’s the consequence for getting back from the dead. Remember that, Stiles. There is always a prize.” 

Stiles hums. “Why did you come back in the first place?” he asks. 

Peter blinks up at the ceiling. He shrugs. “Well. Mostly spite, I guess. But … sometimes I think, a part of me just wanted to have another chance. A chance to do the things I couldn’t do, to see things I didn’t see. Due to my role in Talia’s pack, then the coma … I don’t know. I didn’t feel like I was ready to die.” 

“Hm. Yeah, Derek told me you didn’t see Fast and the Furious. Or Harry Potter. Or … well, a lot of other classics and that’s a crime. We could, uh, fix that,” Stiles says, trying to sound casual, but he ruins the effect with blushing. 

Peter smiles at him. “I’d like that.” 

“Cool,” Stiles says quickly, blushing even more. “Cool. That’s … yeah. Cool. But first, you are going to recover from having a hole in your chest.” 

“Alright, doctor. But hey, at least I can say I was almost torn apart by a dragon. That’s something one should have on their bucket list, right?” Peter winks. 

Stiles just shakes his head. “Idiot,” he says fondly. 


End file.
